


Rules of Engagement

by sunsolace



Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout 4
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anchorage, F/M, First Meetings, Military, Pre-War, Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-30
Updated: 2019-03-30
Packaged: 2019-12-26 17:13:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,348
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18286676
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunsolace/pseuds/sunsolace
Summary: In between the regulations and the ranks on the uniforms are people just trying to survive Anchorage. Nate Prescott is one of them, protecting his squad as best he can. As is one Kaelyn Singh, having been drafted out of law school.It's not love at first sight.





	Rules of Engagement

Off-duty hours are supposed to be fun. Or at least not as bad as any other time in Anchorage. Even though Staff Sergeant Nate Prescott sits on the floor of the barracks playing cards, he can feel the facade cracking around him.

Of the five others, Josefina Gonzales is the least concerned, holding her cards in a disastrously loose hold on her knee. After the Battle of Old Seward, she’s an honorary squadmate, and not just because she’s the best gossip in the battalion. By contrast, Irene ‘Dylan’ Brenner keeps her eyes on her own cards, which is a sure sign she’s more nervous than she’s letting on.

Gina Miller hasn’t won a single hand so far, but that’s not the reason she’s hunched into her jacket, her thick lips pressed into a hard line and stray curls escaping her bun. From the way her fingers twitch, she’d rather be with the grease monkeys downstairs. That leaves Alesta Hanson as the only one playing for keeps, but even she’s off her game today. Too much time scowling and not enough plotting.

Even if gambling’s against the regs and Nate’s money is safe, getting his ass whooped by Hanson is usually an ego-bruising experience. But they’re playing it safe with Go Fish instead of anything that could look like betting. Best not tempt fate right now.

All the card-players in the squad are here, minus Weiss, who’s vacationing in the infirmary after a recent mishap. His psycho dabbling is another headache Nate’s going to have to deal with, and maybe now the brass will stop stonewalling his requests for Addictol and a medical evaluation. At least Moreno and Vargas are using their free time to sleep instead.

But somehow, one of his soldiers almost ODing isn’t the most pressing issue Nate has to deal with. First place goes to the one and only Private Gilbert Sculley. The bastard got himself charged with disrespect toward superior commissioned officer and sedition for complaining about their orders, the weather, and the LC in Lieutenant Thompson’s hearing range.

Just thinking of Thompson makes Nate’s teeth grind. If not for him, Nate could’ve dealt with Sculley himself and moved on. But no, it has to go over his head now. Sculley isn’t the first one to voice doubts about the plan to retake the pipeline after their devastating losses at Calliway Ridge. He’s just the first dumb enough to say it loudly.

So here they are, whittling away the hours the way soldiers do best until the court-martial.

Gonzales asks, “Know who you’re crossing swords with in the courtroom?”

Sculley only shrugs, and Nate holds back a sigh. Of course, he hasn’t read the papers.

“A Lieutenant Singh is the trial counsel,” Nate supplies.

“Singh?” Gonzales repeats. “They pulled her in for this?”

Sculley takes a moment to put on his best show of bravado. “Isn’t she the one who just got assigned here? The FNG who can’t stand the snow?”

Gonzales raises an eyebrow. “Considering you’re already up shit creek, maybe don’t add another charge to the pile?”

Sculley subsides with a grumble.

“You know who Singh is?” Miller asks. “Want to know if we should be arranging a casket.”

Nate is about to chastize her for lowering morale, but Brenner has to make it worse. “Isn’t she the cute one? Brown hair, hazel green eyes, resting bitch face?” When she realizes everyone is staring, she shrugs. “What? A girl can dream.”

Sculley’s face scrunches in disgust. “You’re supposed to be on my team! Not thinking with you di— er, lady parts.”

Brenner snorts. “I hate to inform you that biology is way more complicated than that.”

“Back to the actual topic,” Nate cuts in before things can get any worse. “Gonzales, got any intel on the JAG?”

Gonzales frowns as she thinks. "Knows the damn UCMJ backwards, from what I hear. The brass points her at a target, and she goes for the jugular. Hell, the grapevine is saying she butted heads with the LC over prisoners' rights, of all things."

“Oh,” Brenner says. “So that’s why all prisoners get a blanket now.”

"She got assigned here because she knows her shit. If the brass wants a case won, they hand it to her." Gonzales leans back in her seat. "Hate to say it, pal, but Sculley's boned."

—

Nate strides down the corridor, propelled by something close to but not quite fury. The whole court-martial had been a sham, and everyone in the room knew it. This late at night, the offices are mostly abandoned, but there’s one room with light peeking under the door. Because of course it is. The star JAG can’t keep regular hours like the rest of them.

Nate knows he shouldn’t be annoyed when he’s banking on her pulling a late-nighter so they can chat in private, but, well, he is. His knock rattles down the corridor like footsteps, alerting anyone who cares to hear. Without waiting for a response, he opens the door.

Lieutenant Kaelyn Singh, Judge Advocate extraordinaire, glances up at his entry. “What can I do for you—Staff Sergeant Prescott, was it?”

“Yes, ma’am. I wanted to talk about Private Sculley’s case.”

She arches a cool eyebrow. “You attended the court-martial. What should we need to discuss?”

From Singh’s immaculate hair to her neat uniform, she obviously hasn’t been worn down by Anchorage yet. But she drives a mean desk, and hell, her papers are even mostly organized. No baubles, no knickknacks. That means she’s either a total hardass or doesn’t have anything she wants to keep close while away from home.

Nate’s about to take a gamble on which option it is. “You threw the case.”

He only sees it because he’s looking: the slightest twitch of her mouth, before it smooths out like wrinkles under a hot iron. Singh’s voice is arctic. “Excuse me?”

Nate is almost surprised he isn’t covered in frost. “Come on. They pull in the star JAG on what should be an open-shut case and the accused walks free?”

This time her face doesn't twitch, but her gaze sharpens to laser precision. "Did you have a reason for coming here, Sergeant?"

“To thank you, ma’am. I know you’re going to face consequences for this.” Doesn’t matter whether or not the brass realize she failed on purpose. The Army has a long memory, even if she’s not up for promotion soon. And foiling the attempt to tar and feather Sculley is going to leave a mark on her record.

Singh’s eyes narrow. “You can start by not insulting me.”

“The trial counsel realizing the case is bogus and doing something about it? That isn’t an insult in my book, ma’am.”

“It is in mine. I do my job and I do it well, but I can’t win every case. There’s nothing more to it than that.”

Maybe he should shut up before Singh somehow finds grounds to appeal Sculley’s acquittal. So he says, “I hear ya.”

She narrows her eyes at him, waiting for a twist that never comes. When she figures out he’s dropping the argument, her shoulders relax an inch. Not quite enough to come down from around her ears, but it’s a start. Singh purses her lips, and for the first time, Nate notices how plump they are, emphasized by her plum lipstick—

Nope. Not going there.

Nate looks anywhere except her mouth as she considers her response. Singh makes that task absurdly hard as she chews on her lower lip. Finally, she says, “That’s a rather informal way to be addressing a superior, Sergeant.”

“Yes, ma’am. Sorry, ma’am. Won’t happen again, ma’am.”

Another sharp, mistrustful look tells him he’s already burnt his bridges with her. But all she says is, “Good.”

“I won’t disturb you further, Lieutenant.” He turns on his heel to leave.

“Sergeant,” she calls after his back. When he glances back at her, her face is once again composed. “This meeting was off the record.”

“Thank you, ma’am.”

As he shuts the door, he swears he hears a soft, “You’re welcome.”


End file.
